MARRIED TO THE MAN WHO HATES ME

I wasn’t supposed to marry a man who looked at me like I was his biggest mistake. But at 19, love wasn’t my choice, survival was. “You’ll be getting married on Saturday, to Joe. “My father didn’t look at me when he said it. I waited for him to say he was joking. He didn’t,the silence in the room felt heavier than the words themselves. My throat tightened. I couldn’t even argue. The words refused to leave my mouth. And I felt bad, I had no choice cause I was left with no option, I had to stick to his order for the sake of his work life. ..it was on Saturday morning, The birds were chirping outside my window, as if it were just another beautiful Saturday morning. my families? smile bloomed up on every face, I was getting dressed up by the midwives in the dressing room, I tried so hard to hide the pain, the thought of getting married to someone I never loved won’t just make me think straight. “You look so beautiful” my mother whispered.. I forced a smile, cause in exactly three hours….. I would be married to a man who hated my family. And I still don’t know why. …The ceremony… …The hall was elaborate “…but I could feel the tension in the air. My family was seated at the back of the hall, beaming with excitement at me. Staring at the front row is Joe and his family. His family looked excited too but I couldn’t find that expression on Joe's face, he gave me a disgusted glare from afar. I pretended not to notice and walked down the aisle to meet him at the altar, When I reached the altar, the pastor welcomed us warmly. He said a prayer, cracked a few jokes, and read passages from the Bible. At one point, Joe leaned closer to whisper something into the pastor’s ear. I couldn’t catch the words, but when the moment for the kiss came, it was skipped. I didn’t feel sad. I didn’t feel bad either cause I’ll never want to kiss a man who gaze at me with so much disgust….the scene ended, everyone partied, ate to satisfaction but here’s me and my newly wedded husband finding it very difficult to stare at each other….it was all over, the party, joyful moments, excited hours, Finally, the time came to say goodbye to my family. My younger sister stared at me, her face etched with sorrow, desperately trying to hold back tears. I fought to do the same, swallowing the lump in my throat. My parents gave me gentle pats on my back, words of love whispered in my ear. Then came Linda, my best friend. She wrapped her arms around me so tightly I thought she might never let go. I held her back just as tightly, feeling the warmth, we released each other. Stepping toward the car that would take me to my new life, I glanced back one last time. My heart ached. I wasn’t ready, yet there was no turning back. And somewhere deep inside, I wondered if Joe would ever see me as more than a stranger bound to him. and I stepped toward the next chapter of my life…One, I wasn’t sure I wanted to live. I tried to smile at Joe, but the shadow in his eyes told me this marriage would not be easy. And somehow, I already feared the battles to come. Stepping away from my family, I felt a knot in my chest. Was this the life I had imagined or the life I was forced into? Little did I know, the evening’s celebration had hidden more than joy it had quietly set the stage for secrets that would soon unravel. The ride to our new home was silent. Joe didn’t speak, and I didn’t try. The city lights blurred past the window as I traced the outline of the skyline with my finger, pretending not to notice the tension between us. I thought about the ceremony, the skipped kiss, the way he had looked at me, and a shiver ran down my spine. How could someone look at their bride with such cold disgust? I had imagined this moment differently filled with joy, maybe a little laughter, certainly hope. Instead, it felt like stepping into a cage. When we arrived, our apartment stood in muted silence, waiting for us to fill it with life. I carried my bag inside and set it on the small dining table. Joe didn’t move. He just stood by the door, staring at me, expression unreadable. “Do you want anything? I asked softly. The words sounded ridiculous even to me. He shook his head, his silence louder than any answer could have been. I walked over to the kitchen, unpacking the few items I had brought. Each item felt foreign in this space, this life. The apartment smelled of new paint and cold wood, but it didn’t feel like home. It was just walls and furniture and the man I was supposed to call my husband. I thought about my family, about the warmth and chaos I had left behind, and a pang of loneliness hit me. I hadn’t realized how much I had taken their presence for granted until it was gone. Dinner came and went in the quietest way imaginable. Joe barely touched his food, and I ate in silence, pretending not to notice the tension that grew heavier with every passing second. I wanted to speak, to break the invisible wall between us, but the right words never came. How do you start a conversation with a man who looks at you like you’re an enemy? After dinner, I moved to the living room, sitting on the edge of the couch and staring out the window. The city pulsed with life, unaware of my inner turmoil. I tried to focus on the lights, the distant sounds of cars, the laughter spilling from nearby apartments. But nothing could drown out the questions in my mind. How did it come to this? How could someone I barely knew become my life partner without ever showing kindness, affection, or understanding? Hours passed. The clock ticked louder than either of us spoke. Joe eventually moved to the balcony, standing in the dark as if the night could shield him from the awkwardness between us. I didn’t follow, didn’t speak. Instead, I let my thoughts wander. I wondered what had driven him to look at me that way at the ceremony, what grudges or judgments he carried that I had never known about. I tried to imagine a future where we could live in some kind of peace, maybe even understanding. But it felt impossible. Finally, exhaustion overtook me. I retreated to the bedroom, the cool sheets a poor substitute for the warmth I craved. Joe didn’t join me immediately, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to. Sleep was restless, filled with fragmented memories of smiles and laughter I had shared with my family, and the haunting vision of Joe’s glare. I realized, as I drifted in and out of consciousness, that this was only the beginning of a journey I had not chosen, a life I would have to navigate carefully. One misstep could make this living nightmare permanent. And yet, despite the heaviness, there was a small ember of defiance inside me. I would not let this man’s disgust define me. I would survive this, even if it meant enduring the coldness in silence, even if it meant learning his thoughts, his moods, his secrets, until I could understand him or until I could find a way to reclaim my freedom. Sleep eventually came, but it offered no answers. Only questions. And in the silence of our new apartment, I made a silent promise to myself: this was not the life I had imagined, but it was the life I had now. And I would find my way through it step by step, day by day whether Joe liked it or not.